Cult of Shadows
by Desmoth
Summary: A mostly noncomedic story about a demon cultist and his voidwalker. Rated M or violence, language, and possible upcoming sexual references.


This is my first fanfic, so any opinions would be nice. I own Warkagon, the personalities of Gelham and Makdok, and some other people who I might put it.

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I pulled out a dagger. It was curved, almost like a snake, and stained with blood. The man in the center of the sacrificial circle simply stayed kneeling, not daring to look up at his fate. I grinned, and began tracing demonic symbols along his back. The man grimaced, but attempted to hold back the pain. Once I was done, the symbols glowed brightly. The man arched his back, showing his chest, and began screaming in pain. I stabbed him in the chest, and he fell to the center of the circle. I stepped out of the circle, and it began glowing brightly. Fire lined the edges of the circle, stretched to the ceiling, and disappeared, leaving behind only the dagger and the demon that was now holding it: a being of shadow, with the form of what most would call a genie, except dark blue. I spoke in the rough language of Demonic:

"Makdok. Good to see you again." The voidwalker muttered something under it's breath. "Now, now, no need for witty remarks. I just need you for a small job, nothing too much..." I grinned again, showing my pointed teeth. I suddenly grabbed Makdok, and hissed my command in his face. "You will gather some important reagents, vital ingredients if our master is to be summoned. Get whatever help you need, demonic or no, and return to me once you have the reagents. Now go!" I threw him to the ground, and collected my dagger. "I will be waiting for your arrival." I sheathed my dagger, turned, and left the cavern. I had other business to attend to...

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I wandered the Twisting Nether, aimlessly, waiting to be summoned once again. My master had not summoned me recently, but I knew his plans were going according to plan. A new cult of the Burning Legion has risen under his domination. An underground one, unlike the heretic cults such as the Burning Blade.

An imp flew by, and stuck out its tongue at me. I made a rude gesture at it, and it said "Ooo! I'm gonna tell Warkagon that you did that next time he summons me!" "Oh, it's YOU. What do you want?" Gelham smirked. "Oh, nothing..." "Damn you secretive imps." "Hey! Now I AM going to tell Warkagon! Meanie!" Gelham started pretending to cry. "Come off it. Warkagon probably has said the same thing several times." Gelham paused for a moment to stick his tongue out at me again.

I felt a sudden tug at my form. "I'm being summoned. I'll come back to you, imp." I let the summons take me, and I disappeared.

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I began walking down the hall. Makdok had been sent on his assignment, and now I had to deal with another problem... As leader and most powerful of my small cult, it was up to me to get rid of any heretic infestations. Some of our younger members had lost a bit of faith in our performance, and had started plotting against us. I summoned up my imp, Gelham, in a different fashion.

"Gelham, what is your news on the heretic situation?" "Oh, every-thing's going spectacular! They could use some wall decorations, maybe some blood-red paintings..." I laughed. "Good idea. I'll deliver some right now... Where can I find them?" Gelham pondered this. "Underneath Dreadmist Peak. Not many people go there besides the Burning Blade, so..." "Any enchantments on the door?" "Can't see it unless you're looking for it, and a neat fireball for any intruders. Door imp, to be exact." I nodded. "Keep me updated. For now, though, make sure Makdok does his work properly..." Gelham saluted, and I dismissed him. Making sure none of the heretics noticed me, I slipped out of the underground caverns and began my way to Dreadmist Peak.

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Well... shit. I would've preferred being bored in the Twisting Nether to the assignment that Warkagon gave me. The reagents are going to be hard to get my hands on... especially since I don't even have a relatively human form. Oh well, I'll have to do as best I can.

I headed off in the general direction of Orgrimmar. The first reagent was hidden there, and was currently in the possession of a warlock named Neeru Fireblade. Tangaruman's still-beating heart would be an essential ingredient in the summoning of Warkagon's - and therefore my - master.

I grabbed Gelham from the air beside me. "Hey! What's the big deal!" "You'd grab me out of the air if you were in the same situation. Now, why are you following me?" "Direct orders from Warkagon himself, now stop strangling me!" I let him go, and he massaged his neck. "Ow... you have a strong grip, you know that?" "I practice. What were your exact instructions?" "Why should I tell?" "I can strangle you again." "Okay, okay!" He thought for a moment. "For now, though, make sure Makdok does his work properly..." Warkagon's voice came out of Gelham's vocal cords. I nodded, and keep heading to Orgrimmar.

So my master doesn't trust me? We'll see about that...

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Read and review, peoples. Replies to questions will be posted in the next chapter.


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